DUTCH’S DUCK
Dan Mallard was quite a happy guy, he was married to the woman he loved and they had quite an active happy young daughter not even in school yet. They all lived in the house he had built where they wanted to live rurally outside Tahlequah. Dan worked in construction with his friends in Tulsa and all of the commuted everyday back and forth. Dan’s friends all called him Duck because of his last name.
He still laughed about coming home a few weeks ago, not long after he had added the satellite cable to their tv when his wife just pointed to the floor underneath and said deal with it and walked off. When he looked at the floor under the tv he saw a quite dead rattlesnake have been shot by his wife. Apparently it had crawled in through the hole he had drilled for the cable somehow. Their daughter had seen it first, showed it to his wife, who went to their bed room, got his pistol and killed it with one shot. However she wouldn’t touch it to take it outside and dispose of it that she had left for him.
Much more humorous than the time he came home to see the hood up on their pick up and found out the engine had caught fire that day just as his wife parked it in their driveway and got so scared that she put the fire out by throwing sand from the ground on it until it went out. What a repair bill that had caused. He remembered telling her next time just let it burn and he could deal with the insurance company easier.
Neither of these though could compare with this night. Two years ago Dan had been one of the pallbearers at his grandfather Dutch’s funeral. Dan dearly loved his grandfather and never understood why all his lifelong friends called him Dutch. He was the only son of Dan’s great grandparents the Mallards who had owned the farm that Dutch worked after their deaths and they were not Dutch as far as Dan knew.
Just as Dan was watching his favorite show he heard someone driving up his driveway. Now it was already dark and he was not expecting anyone, so at first he thought they would probably just turn around discovering they had pulled into the wrong place. However in a few minutes there was a knock at his front door. So he got out of his chair and went to answer it, his wife was sewing in the bedroom and his daughter was already asleep.
As Dan opened the door he experienced the biggest shock in his entire life because there standing outside his front door stood his grandfather. Now Dan knew his grandfather was dead, he was there, he was a pallbearer at the funeral, but here in front of him was his grandfather. His knees were about to buckle and his heart was beating faster than he had ever known.
“Excuse me are you Dan Mallard?” The man said.
“Uhh…yes I am.” Was all Dan could get out and that was with more effort than ever for him.
“My name is Paul Von Zeider. Are you the grandson of Dutch Mallard?” the man asked again.
“Yes I am or should say was anyway.” Dan replied.
“Yes I had found out recently that he is dead?” Paul asked.
“Yes sir two years ago now. why do you ask?” Dan asked the man?
“I am his twin brother and I have been looking for him for a very long time.” Paul said in reply.
“My grandfather was an only child sir. Are you sure you are looking for the right man, although you do look just like him I have to admit. Enough so that you pretty well scared the begezzus out of me there for a moment.” Dan said. “would you like to come in.”
“Yes, thank you I would very much.” Paul told him.
Over the next hour Paul Von Zeider told Dan an amazing story. Dutch was indeed his twin brother and Paul had been looking for him for over forty years. Recently he had more time to do so since he retired and had more time to spend on his search. He was saddened that he was two years too late.
Dutch as everyone here had always known him was actually William Von Zeider. There had been an argument with his father when he was twelve years old. William wanted to go join the circus, which his father refused naturally. Later that same night William ran away from home never to be found. Eventually they all surmised that he had hopped a freight train headed west from their home in Alabama.
It had taken decades for Paul to sift through scraps of evidence and rumor until he was sure that he had gotten off the train here in Tahlequah. Then in the past few months had found in old records where the Mallards adopted William about a year after he got here.
One of Dutch’s oldest friends who is still living had filled in the pieces just a day before. The friend had been sworn to secrecy by Dutch many years ago. Once Dutch reached here he got off after several days without food or a couple without water. He was wandering around the town eating whatever he could find in scraps when the Mallards saw him on the streets a few times. They offered to take him to their farm and let him work for room and board, which he agreed to. The Mallards were a childless couple and in no time at all grew very fond of him. Dutch had told them that he was an orphan. So a few months later with Dutch’s agreement they adopted him. There had been no complaint or questions at the time because he was staunch in his story about his parents being dead.
They both exchanged addresses and phone numbers before Paul Von Zeider had to leave for the night. That following weekend Dan took the man around to those relatives still living in and around the general area before he had to go back home to Alabama.
As Paul pulled away on that Sunday morning Dan thought to himself, I think I will keep the name Mallard though, it was the one Grandpa wanted and I won’t change it now.
